Going South
by ForASecondThereWe'dWon
Summary: I'd like to answer the biggest question left by the Riverdale season 1 cliffhanger. No, not "Will Fred Andrews live?" but "Did Betty and Jughead ever have sex?" Spoiler, this story is rated M.


He stood at the back, behind the crowd, avoiding any stares of discomfort. She stood under the spotlight, behind the podium, daring people to overcome that discomfort and meet her eye.

Mayor McCoy had called Archie 'Riverdale's hero'. Bullshit. Jughead Jones had watched Riverdale's hero plan, and think, and get frustrated, and rethink―risking her neck to carry out some of those thoughts and plans in between―for months. He had seen Riverdale's hero struggle with injustices great and small. He had heard her voice late at night when she called, nearly in tears after pushing herself towards a breakthrough that just wouldn't come. He had held the hand of Riverdale's hero and was aware because of it that she was never the first one to loosen her grip, never the first to give in. Jughead knew damn well who Riverdale's hero was, and he was looking right at her.

He knew she saw him applaud first and felt sure that, even with the rest of the attendees on their feet cheering her message of fairness and forgiveness, she still heard the ring of his clapping above the rest.

Jughead would tell Betty tonight―tell her he loved her. He would tell her because it was true, and after all of the lies, manipulations, and concealments, just the truth, as it was, would mean the most.

* * *

Looking back through the doorway to a dishevelled Betty waiting inside, Jughead felt the world stop around him for a moment. Before him stood the payoff of his dad's silence. The loyalty was in their eyes and on his back, that intimidating, judgement-inducing, unmistakable Serpent jacket. Jughead felt it shaping over his shoulders, already molding itself to him.

"Juggy," Betty repeated.

Her loyalty wasn't something he'd ever have to trade for.

Jughead slid the jacket from his shoulders and handed it back.

"No disrespect. I'm sure my dad will be wanting to get it back from you when he gets out."

The Serpent handled the jacket reverently, giving Jughead a hard look.

"Keep it, Jones. I'm sure FP'd rather have it hanging in his closet than hear some drunken punk was trying it on at the White Worm."

Jughead smirked and accepted his father's gang jacket back.

"We won't forget what he did for us. You need anything, you know where to find us."

The Serpent and Jughead exchanged nods. Jughead stayed on the step, getting misted by the rain, until his father's compatriots were out of site.

Back inside, Jughead met Betty's eye as he passed her, heading to the closet to hang the jacket. Throwing it on the pile of his and Betty's coats on the couch felt like an intrusion. He turned back to her and couldn't help but smile, though he knew there might be a rough conversation coming. Anyone short of an entire gang Jughead might have punched in the face for interrupting them at such a critical moment.

"I'm not going to―"

"I heard. I was standing right here."

"Right." Jughead ran a hand through his hair, unsure what to add. Betty's eyes looked vaguely past him.

"Uh, Betts?"

She focused on his face.

"Now that you know I'm not going to skip off and join a gang, what could possibly be worrying you?"

She blushed. "I wasn't worrying."

"Oh no?"

"I was distracted."

Jughead raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth on a similar upwards path. "By?"

"Trying to commit to memory the way you look in a leather jacket."

His other eyebrow rose.

"Betty Cooper." Jughead shook his head slowly and walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Anyone would think you were attracted to me."

Betty lowered her chin, looking him firmly in the eye as her arms looped behind his neck. "And the way you turned down a dozen gang members, effectively choosing a future with your girlfriend over the chance to walk in the footsteps of your father? Anyone would think you were in love with me."

Jughead shrugged, getting close enough to press his hips to Betty's. "I'm not really a 'take up my father's mantle' kinda guy."

"Too much of a trailblazer?" Her fingertips stroked the back of his neck.

Jughead shook his head carefully so as not to lose the feel of her touch. "Too much of a weirdo. Even without the hat."

Betty's chest rose and fell heavily. Jughead noticed in a way she couldn't pretend not to see at such close quarters. "So you still want…" she began.

Jughead laughed shortly in disbelief. "I'd have had you right there on the kitchen counter if I wasn't so concerned about the quality of food my dad has a history of preparing on it."

Betty's face scrunched up in distaste. "But you cleaned it."

"Some things linger." His expression was unconcerned.

She leaned back from him. "You let me sit on there!"

"You still had your skirt on!" Jughead's hands tipped away from her back as he gestured.

Betty frowned and dropped her hands to her hips. Jughead heard a zipper and felt Betty wriggling against him. He looked down to see her skirt pool over his feet.

"What point are you trying to make, Betty?" He tried to sound tough, but he could feel his body heating up.

Betty narrowed her eyes, locking their gaze, and gave another downward yank. Pale pink lace settled around her ankles. Jughead swallowed.

"Yeah, ok." He grabbed her bare thighs, slinging them over his hips again as he held her, making his way towards his old bedroom. Betty pressed her lips to his and Jughead felt his dick jerk forward in his pants, eager to resume the activities of a few minutes earlier. As he shuffled through the kitchen, trying not to bang into anything, Betty broke the kiss.

"Not the counter!" She looked at him with alarm.

Jughead laughed. "Believe it or not, but that actually wasn't going to be my first choice."

He booted the door to his bedroom open and carried Betty to his freshly made bed. Jughead set her down, running his hand over her bare ass as he transferred her weight from his arms to the mattress. He was giving her the opportunity to take it slow, but clearly a girl who'd just dropped her underwear in his living room knew what she wanted. Betty grabbed Jughead by the front of his shirt, pulling him down on top of her.

Multitalented girl that she was, Betty maneuvered herself back onto the center of the bed while working the fastening of Jughead's jeans open. He pulled himself after her, never taking his eyes off Betty's face. He smiled at her look of determination.

Bracing himself on one elbow, Jughead tugged at the hem of Betty's pink sweater. His hand slid over what felt like a massive expanse of naked torso. Jughead paused as he drew Betty's top up over her breasts, flicking his eyes down. Suddenly, Betty's hands were on his face, drawing him into a kiss he was quick to deepen from his position above her. When she moaned into the kiss, Jughead pushed the sweater to one side, groping her breast hungrily. Betty scrambled to part her legs and Jughead settled between them, rocking his erection against her core.

Logic returned to him for a moment and he realized his pants were still on. He definitely didn't want to scrape the teeth of his zipper against such a sensitive part of her. Letting her take the lead on their kiss, Jughead felt the front of himself, relieved to find that his zipper had been fully open and his pants partly dragged down by his hurried movement across the bed after Betty. Intending to bring his arm to rest above Betty's head, Jughead accidentally brushed the back of his hand between Betty's legs. Her mouth separated from his to accommodate her forceful pant.

His hand shaking so much that each finger independently trembled, Jughead flipped his palm down, pressing his fingers against her. Betty cried out and Jughead pressed a little more, letting her wetness seep over and between his fingers. His mouth felt dry and his dick all but jerked him forward, longing to dive right in. Jughead's thumb brushed back, nudging Betty's clit and she shook in his arms the way Cheryl had in Archie's when he'd pulled her from the frozen river.

Though her vibrations had been uncontrollable, Jughead knew it was conscious, desirous intent that caused Betty to arch her back next, pushing her chest to his and forcing her wet center against his hand. He got himself up to kneeling, whipping his shirt off over his head. Betty had done the same with hers, though without rising, and she tossed it over the side of his bed. Her hands went behind her back, feeling for the clasp of her bra, so Jughead hustled to push his jeans and boxers down his hips before laying back atop her, impatiently kicking his layers the rest of the way off.

Betty naked. Jughead's eyes roamed over her and he breathed deeply so he wouldn't pass out. He looked back at her face and saw she was smiling in the way he'd only ever seen her smile for him.

"So this―" he squeezed his eyes shut briefly as the urge to plow into her tried to take charge in his brain. "―makes sense, right?" Jughead looked at her earnestly.

Betty drew her legs up, letting her soft inner thighs run against his hips before tightening her hold. Her perfect round eyes stared up into his, hypnotizing him.

"We're not doing it because it makes sense, Jug."

Her smile turned to a smirk and Jughead saw the passion that was so integral to this journalist/detective/girlfriend he'd fallen so hard in love with.

"And you definitely want all of…" Jughead lowered his hips to hers, letting the stiffened length of his erection bask in the wet heat between her thighs.

Betty pushed herself up on her elbows, putting her mouth next to his ear. Then she reached between them, giving his erection one, torturously slow, stroke. "I definitely want _all_ of it."

Jughead might have rolled his eyes if he weren't so focused on more important things. He hadn't meant that quite the way she'd interpreted it.

Jughead looked at her seriously for a long minute, really looked, as he had at the inhabitants of Riverdale over the past months. He could never not be an observer.

Betty met his stare and then spoke again.

"I'd have had you already on the kitchen counter if we hadn't been interrupted."

Jughead groaned, pressing his nose to her throat and kissing wetly up her neck. He raised his head to look at her. "Even with the…" he gestured uninformatively with his hand. "…lingering?"

"Some things I wouldn't mind lingering." Betty looked at him suggestively and Jughead snapped, finding her lips with his and lining himself up with her entrance.

Jughead pushed inside while Betty very trustingly left her hands to rest lightly behind his neck. She shifted a little in discomfort and Jughead had to force himself not to grab her hips and hold her still; such an aggressive action would only counteract the gentleness with which he was trying to treat her.

Soon, though, to Jughead's surprise, Betty began encouraging a faster pace. Her hands went to his shoulders, squeezing, and she tilted her hips up against his, pushing back every time he thrusted. Jughead licked his bottom lip and sped up, analyzing her expression.

"Is this ok? It doesn't hurt?" He was starting to pant.

Betty's face was hot already, but she still managed to blush more. "No, it doesn't hurt. I think about you a lot… for stress relief."

Jughead's eyes widened and his hips shot forward. "And now I'm gonna think about _that_ during my own… stress relief."

Betty laughed and Jughead felt the muscles she had gripping his dick contract. "Really? You're going to think about that over reliving what's happening right now?"

He pressed his lips against hers, smiling, then drew back. "Good point."

Now they worked together, Betty angling her hips to Jughead's every time he pushed forward. Jughead was happier than ever that they had waited to do this in an empty house because he was delighting in the sharp, high noises his girlfriend was making. He dragged his hips against hers, knowing he'd clipped her clit when he felt her legs quiver on either side of his hips. Betty started to arch against him, their sweaty chests kissing and Jughead gripped her hip with one hand as she slipped her arms up under his, holding him around his upper back.

The bed started to creak satisfyingly as Jughead pounded into her, watching Betty's hair wave over his bedspread, her eyes close in pleasure, and her mouth open to pant. Then she clamped down on him, her face scrunching up, and Jughead caught her mouth with his before she could shape it into another sound. He lost himself in her, barely noticing his arms pulling her against him as he groaned out her name.

Jughead shifted on to his side and smoothed the hair away from Betty's forehead. Her eyes were widened in wonder and Jughead had to try not to laugh hysterically, he was so completely, incandescently, overwhelmed.

"That was…" Her eyes shone.

"Betty Cooper at a loss for words?" Jughead harnessed enough strength to raise himself on an elbow and look down over her.

She smiled. "It was perfect." Her eyes narrowed slightly, giving her a sexier expression. "It was _really_ good."

Jughead's gaze dropped for a second in embarrassment at her praise, then came back to hers. "Only the best for the hero of Riverdale."

* * *

Thought I'd try a shorter story this time. For anyone who's been following my last fic, _Rain Dance_ , it's now up in its entirety. Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has commented on my stories and sent me words of excitement and encouragement. This season of _Riverdale_ may be over, but I'm not finished writing about it.

 **Update, May 31st:**

Ah! I realize I haven't published anything in almost three weeks, which is like a dog's age compared to the rate I was going before. Tonight (or this morning, or afternoon, take your pick) I banged out over a thousand words of a new story. I'm not done, but I can tell you this: there will be profanity, there will be nudity, and oh yes, there will be Bughead.

XO ForASecondThereWe'dWon


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